


Nighthawk

by well_of_sapphire_fears



Series: The Dictionary of Me [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, I tagged Bin and Woojin cause they talk about them the most, References to Depression, Sad with a Happy Ending, everyone besides Chan and Sung are just mentioned, hopeful is what i'd like to call it, just my take on chansung's relationship, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 11:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/well_of_sapphire_fears/pseuds/well_of_sapphire_fears
Summary: Chan never realises that it's a nightmare. It's not until he awakens, still floating in a cloud of bliss the dream brought that he realizes when Stray Kids were walking into the family diner, he stood by the entrance checking if everyone was there and he counted one, two, three, four, five, six-And that's it.And he never found anything wrong with it. He just sat down with the rest and spent the evening laughing and eating.Happy.This terrifies him more than monsters and darkness ever could.Chan hasn’t been feeling that great as of late. Jisung comes to talk.





	Nighthawk

**Author's Note:**

> According to The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows:  
nighthawk  
n. a recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night—an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future—that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that you can successfully ignore for weeks, only to feel its presence hovering outside the window, waiting for you to finish your coffee, passing the time by quietly building a nest.
> 
> A/N. This was edited because of a typo (thanks, honeybun_jisung!), but the fic itself did not change.

The room is dark and silent. 3:18, the clock blinks at him and in the distance, Chan can hear a siren.

He should do something. There’s so much work left, so many melodies to tweak with their comeback getting closer with every passing minute, but he _can’t_.

You see, Chan… He has nightmares sometimes. Not often enough for it to be worrying, he probably gets them the same as anyone else. The only reason that _sometimes_ feels more like _often_ to him is because he generally doesn't sleep a lot. And it's probably needless to say this, but they don't really help him fix that habit.

They usually occur when he's already stressed by the deadlines, stretched a bit too thin. He put it even in a song once - "it seems like the expectations where a bit too high from the start" and sometimes, rarely but still, this line comes back to haunt him. He has so many responsibilities and even though he knows the rest would berate him in a heartbeat (they still sometimes do) for trying to deal with everything by himself, he can't change it. He's tried, he's _trying_, because he knows if he wants them to lean on him it has to be mutual. But it's hard, when he spent his teenage years on letting other people in only to be let down.

In the end, everyone left him.

And he knows this thought isn’t fair because more often than not it wasn't their fault - it was simply the way their lives played out. And a lot of times, his friends kept in contact, both those who debuted as well as those who decided to leave training and go back home. They all have their own paths and their own troubles. Everyone's struggling and Chan is not special in this respect.

Chan watches his trembling fingers, trailing the veins on his arms with his gaze.

His nightmares.... They aren't like everyone else's though. They don't include monsters or deadlines or stress. No, quite the opposite, and it's the scariest part of them. Chan is happy in those dreams, elated even. Often, they are about something great, like a fanmeeting with their beautiful, kind Stays or the announcement that Stray Kids won another award. Sometimes it's just a day out for the group when they go to an amusement park or maybe simply to a restaurant for dinner. And Chan never realises that it's a nightmare. It's not until he awakens, still floating in a cloud of bliss the dream brought that he realizes when Stray Kids were walking into the family diner, he stood by the entrance checking if everyone was there and he counted one, two, three, four, five, six-

And that's it.

And he never found anything wrong with it. He just sat down with the rest and spent the evening laughing and eating.

Happy.

This terrifies him more than monsters and darkness ever could.

After such nights, the guilt rests in the back of his throat like bile, making him nauseous. He refuses to eat breakfast and can’t find his smile at all, his expression frozen as if he had a mask on. The rest always notice and always _always_ worry, which makes it all even worse, because Minho tries joking around to make him laugh and Felix talks to him in English thinking that it's homesickness and they're beautiful, talented and kind and Chan doesn't deserve them. On those days, he can't even look them in the eyes properly. Or anyone else, for that matter.

But they still stay with him patiently, still smile at him brightly waiting for this funk of his to pass. Usually it does, and Chan's back to his goofy energetic self after a few days, nagging everyone about their bad habits again, cooking them food and being the usual worrying dad figure in the dorm. His eyebags stay a bit darker for a while and their lyrics get a hopeless line or two added to them, but after some time he just tries harder to ease the burden on their shoulders and somehow, helping them never fails to peel off the layers of guilt and remorse from his skin.

This time _usually_ didn't happen.

It's been a week and a half since the last nightmare, and he has yet to snap out of it. In the back of his mind, he's annoyed with himself, knowing that he's bringing the whole team down. Sees the constant furrow of Woojin’s brow, Jeongin's slumped silhouette. Hears the silence of the dorm that used to never be a guest in their home and the absence of Minho's endearing giggle. The maknae line doesn't mess around as much anymore and he hasn't even witnessed Changbin's infamous aegyo in what? Like 3 days now? Maybe even 4? Unheard of.

He notices it all and knows that as a leader he should resolve the problem. If only the problem wasn't _himself_, maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn't, because all these thoughts are stuck in the back of his mind, unable to hold his attention for long before they disappear and are replaced with different ones, ones about the upcoming dance practice or a schedule. Lately, he can’t really focus on anything. It's like his head is filled with cotton candy, stuffed completely full with it, and his thoughts try to sluggishly move through it, but it sticks its sugary body to them and swallows them whole, leaving Chan with nothing more than a weird sense of emptiness and silence.

And exhaustion. Recently, he's just so damn tired.

And now, it's already 3:41 and he's sitting in the studio by himself, staring at the wall in front of him and not moving a muscle. His eyesight is blurry, but it's probably because he's not blinking. He's not getting any work done so he should either start working on another track or go home, but he can't find it in himself to care. There's a weight not unlike the whole world that's resting on his shoulders making him unable to stand, causing him to slouch in his seat instead. It’s hard enough just to breathe.

This is how time passes these days. Chan knows it’s not a good sign, but he’s run out of ideas on how to change it. He just can’t seem to get better, no matter what.

Maybe he’s like a toy, shattered then glued together one too many times, so that one day it just breaks apart and no one can fix it. _Sometimes you just have to let it go and throw it out, Channie_, was what his dad had told him when he was six and broke his toy soldier into small pieces. Now, it sounds like a bad joke as it echoes in his mind and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Then, the door clicks as it’s closed after someone. Normally, he’d never hear it with his ears filled with their newest beat, or too focused on tweaking the latest song’s lyrics, but now his headphones are laying on the table next to his laptop and he never even took his notebook out of his backpack. The newcomer walks over to the seat opposite of Chan before sitting down. His bright green hoodie covers the spot on the wall Chan’s been staring at, so he forces his eyes up, up, until they fall on the other’s face.

It's Jisung.

The effort is too great and Chan’s gaze falls back down, resting on his keyboard. There's a stray thought, a knowledge that he should probably ask what the younger is doing here, when he sent him home two hours ago, but the fog inside his skull and the sluggishness of his limbs distract him before he can even open his mouth to speak. During the day he still pretends, tries to keep a semblance of normality for the sake of the group, but at 3 am in the studio, he can't find it in himself to care. He'll regret it later, showing this part of himself to Jisung so carelessly, but for now he simply _can't_. 

Jisung sighs and starts drumming his fingers on the table. It’s a sort of a rhythm, one Chan hasn’t heard before and there's a part of him, a part he trained during long training days and even longer nights that focuses on the pitterpatter of Jisung's fingernails against the table. He spent too much time listening to music and learning its nicks and crooks to be able to produce his own to not have it become a sort of an instinct.

"I'm here for a 3racha intervertion," Jisung breaks the silence when the blinking numbers above his head reach 3:49.

Chan's throat is dry so he swallows before trying to respond. "Without Changbin?" Even those two words feel like thorns in his throat, scraping at its’ walls until he bleeds. There's an irrational thought that the blood from the wounds will flow down his trachea, fill his lungs and he'll suffocate on it, right here with Jisung sitting across form him and his chest tightens in terror. He chokes on a breath, but he’s dealt with enough panic attacks to know how to react before he reaches a point of no return, so he simply counts in his head and regulates his breathing.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement - Jisung is lowering his head slightly, probably trying to catch Chan's gaze. "Changbin-hyung is a good person, a kind one, but he's the type that if you tell him you're feeling depressed, he'll just answer 'don't be'. He’s never felt like this and he may want the best for everyone, but those words aren't always the answer." Jisung sighs again when Chan just continues staring at his hands, refusing to look up. "You said you talk to Changbin-hyung a lot in Two Kids Room. And that’s true. But I don't think you've ever told him about this."

Chan knows that Jisung knows him. Hell, they've known each other for longer than any of the others, but it still bothers him whenever there is someone who can read him this easily. So, even if just for the sake of his own ignorance, for the sake of the weird comfort wearing a mask brings, he wants to pretend Jisung's wrong. "Why do you think so?"

"Because he's panicking right now. Running around like a headless chicken. It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad. He just wants know how to fix this," Jisung answers. His tone is plaintive, but his back stays rod straight. Jisung’s known as a scaredy-cat and a bit of a cry-baby, but in moments like these he shows the strength only few realize he possesses.

Chan hums in agreement, not having energy to do much else. Some time passes, although he doesn’t know how much. Recently time has been nothing more than a term for him, slipping though his grasp much quicker than should’ve been possible.

Suddenly, the beat changes tempo slightly, becoming faster, more frantic. It seems like Jisung is giving him a sign that he’s still waiting for an answer and if there's one thing Chan has learnt after all those years it's that Jisung is stubborn, so he gives up. "And you know?"

"No. But I think you do."

Even though Jisung’s voice is empty of judgement, the sentence still sounds like an accusation. There’s a sliver of anger that unfurls in Chan’s mind at the younger’s words, but it dies down soon enough, suffocated by the cotton candy cloud. When he speaks again, his voice is as apathetic as before. "Don't you think I would've fixed it by now if I knew how?"

"Maybe you would. But I think you're too smart to do that."

Chan’s eyes flicker up for a fraction of a second before returning to the table. "What do you mean?"

Jisung’s right hand keeps drumming against the table, but he uses his left arm to prop his head up. "I think, no, I know you'll overcome this. I know you quite well, hyung. These periods happen, they happen to all of us. And it’s fine. Isn’t this what you’ve always taught me? It’s okay not to be okay. Now, if it were a perfect world, I’d say you have all the time in the world, but it's not and you don't. But even so, you can take it easy for a week or two. Changbin and I have a few tracks we worked on and if the company asks about our progress, we can just send those in. If you need to take a break or step out or even leave altogether during practice, the others will understand.” The younger’s smiling gently at him, Chan can see it even with his eyes stuck to the table.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to.

A few moments of silence tick by before Jisung sighs for what feels like a thousandth time during this short conversation. Chan almost winces at it, because it makes his feel even more like a burden.

When Jisung starts again, his words are slow. There’s a deliberation in the way he chooses them as well as in the lilt of his voice. It’s rare, because usually Jisung doesn’t need to do that, his brain quick enough to organise his thoughts at light speed. If anything, it simply shows how much he cares. “I’ll be frank, hyung. You know, I didn't even want to talk to you about it. But I've seen the way you're looking at yourself in the practice room mirror and I need to convince you to stop. Things are not okay. But it's not your fault. I think you forgot about in the past few days, so I’m here to remind you. You have to stop beating yourself up for it because at this rate you'll just make everything worse by not accepting your own weaknesses.”

Even though Chan knows of Jisung’s intellect, the fact that he’d noticed this recent change does take him by surprise. Or maybe it shouldn’t, because he lost patience with his own behaviour after snapping at Jeongin during dance practice a few days earlier. He apologized afterwards, but the younger’s red rimmed eyes made him realize he’d been taking too much time on simply letting himself get better.

He should be fine by now, _dammit_. Why is it taking so long this time?

Jisung starts speaking again, breaking Chan’s increasingly self-deprecating train of thought. “And one more thing – we’re a team. Both as 3racha and Stray Kids. We share happiness but burdens as well, so you can rely on us too, even if we’re younger than you. And you don't have to go explicitly to Woojin and Changbin. Sometimes they're perfect. But sometimes, like now, they can't give you what you want, can they?”

Chan swallows again. “How can you know that?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” Throughout the conversation, Jisung’s finger had never ceased their tapping. Chan doesn’t know how did he come up with such a seemingly ridiculous idea to keep him focused, but he realizes with a start that it’s working. It’s worked since Jisung’s first sentence, in fact. “Woojin-hyung is a great oldest hyung, right? He’s very grounded, a stable pillar that will never let us collapse. He’s also a lot touchier than you’d think at first glance. But that is also his weakness – he’ll hug you and shush your cries for as long as you need but if you want to talk about your feelings he won’t be able to answer. He hasn’t learned that skill yet. He’ll get better at it with time though, don’t worry.”

Chan can’t help but glance up at the younger’s face and for the first time, his gaze lingers for more than just a couple seconds. Jisung is young, loud and obnoxious, needy for constant attention and affection and many people see just that, forgetting about one small but important quality of his he shows rarely – he’s a genius. And Chan thinks it’s funny that people address him as such when there’s someone like Jisung at his side. Maybe it’s not that surprising – it’s not something you see at first glance, hiding instead in his brilliant 3 line poems, in the groups' offhand comments of how he can create lyrics on the spot or think up a plan in mere seconds, but it’s _so clear_ to Chan how freakishly smart the younger is.

Well, to be honest, Jisung is also an idiot quite often. But you can be both at the same time, right?

“And Changbin?” Chan asks, because he’s curious what Jisung has to say about him. The feeling catches him by surprise. Since the nightmare, nothing had managed to spark such a clear desire to know something until now. He straightens his back a bit and finally finds the courage to fully look at the younger's face properly. Not in the eye, but still. Improvement.

The other smiles at him with a hint of triumph and Chan thinks that maybe he knows. That maybe he’s saying all that on purpose. It wouldn't be surprising. “Changbin-hyung? He’s great. Annoyingly kind and considerate. Prefers thinking to action, opposite to Woojin. But he likes it a bit too much, or maybe I should say – is unable to do much more. He hasn’t been here to talk to you yet, right?”

No, he hasn’t. Other members rarely confront him about his slumps choosing instead to give him space and time and try to help in small ways so as to not spook him. In fact, the only member that clearly approached him because of it before now was Woojin, somewhere around the 6th day mark. They didn't talk though, the elder just tugged him to his bed after dinner and cuddled him the whole night. It brought Chan warmth that seeped through the fog surrounding him, but it didn't chase it away. He spent the night wide awake, with his head on Woojin’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his breath ruffle Chan's hair lightly in even timestamps.

It seems that Jisung doesn’t need a verbal confirmation, because he continues unprompted. “He’s worried like crazy, but he’s too scared to reach out to you because he might do something wrong and make the situation worse. He’s afraid of taking action without first pondering about it for a long time. Annoyingly considerate, as I said.” The younger chuckles under his breath. “I really hated that quality back when we first met.”

Chan breathes in and out, noting absentmindedly that his chest rises and falls with ease. The tightness and the panic from before aren’t gone completely, but they feel lighter and like they’ve been pushed into the background. Talking doesn't bring the feeling of dread with it anymore. “So you’re more grown up than them?” Chan cocks an eyebrow.

Jisung shrugs his shoulders. “Not really. There’s no more grown up or less in this world. Just differently. I’m the one who can call you out right now, but on other occasions I could be too rash and harsh.”

Chan cracks his neck and ponders about their conversation as he looks at the younger. He doesn't feel okay yet, far from it, but somehow this thought doesn't seem to weigh him down quite as much as it did mere minutes before. Jisung's right after all. And he's simply telling Chan what Chan always tries to tell him, tell the other members, the whole world. Everyone has worse days, horrible days when it seems like nothing is going right and there's no way out. But it's fine. It’s _fine_. Because these days are just days and they will pass. If you’re feeling horrible and you know it, then it must mean you’ve felt differently in the past, right? So, you will as well feel differently in the future. You only know true happiness if you've experienced deep sadness.

_When did you grow up, Sung?_ Chan thinks, but Jisung smiles at him brightly and he realizes he must’ve said it aloud.

The grin on Jisung’s face is the kind that causes his cheeks to puff up and makes him look even more like a squirrel. He looks ages younger. "I'm turning 20, hyung. I even wrote a song about it, didn't you notice? Bo to be frank, I didn't grow up yet. Not really. Does anyone ever do?" the last question is merely a whisper, but there’s nothing to stop Chan from hearing it in the stillness of the studio. Before he has a chance to ask, the younger claps his hands and moves to get up.

"Now, come on. I'm pretty sure Seungmin is gonna be waiting by the door, furious that we're not back yet."

Chan follows his raising form with his gaze, but instead of moving his body there are suddenly words bubbling on his tongue. "Sorry Sung," he whispers, not even knowing what he’s saying before the sentence rings loudly through the room.

"What for?" Jisung cocks his head.

_Indeed, what is he even apologizing for?_

"You're twenty," he just says. Jisung looks at him weirdly because what is it even supposed to mean? To be honest, Chan doesn't quite know what he's trying to say. Is it a compliment? A way of congratulating him on growing up, growing out of the jealous angry boy he used to be when they first met? Or maybe it's an apology, because he’s only turning twenty in a few months, while in fact they've been treating him like an adult for a long, long time now. Even now, he's dragging Chan's ass back home like a parent would do to a child.

Maybe it's Jisung who's right. He's grown but at the same time not grown at all. Chan looks at him and he can barely see the harsh lines of the talented boy he met years before, one with a mind so bright but filled to the brim with spite, but his essence is still the same bright flame it had been long ago.

He's so glad he didn't give up on Jisung back then.

There was a time before any of the others were here, when Chan was still alone and just wanted someone to stay (time of _they all left him alone and debuted and he's just not good enough, will never be good enough_). And one day, suddenly someone did. It wasn't 3racha, or any other team, he didn't even remember the boy's name after his first introduction, but for the first time in a long while it was Chan... and someone. Not anyone important to him, not yet, but a boy that stayed in the studio with him after everyone else had left, scribbling something in an old beaten down notebook. And not just once - he kept coming and coming every day. The boy was lanky with braces on his teeth and features not pretty enough to be called a visual, but Jisung simply _was_.

It didn't take Chan long before he heard his name uttered in the hallways and remembered it this time, because Jisung was suddenly everywhere, every nook and cranny of the company, his presence larger than life itself. He was the incredible new rapper, with energy that never seemed to run out. He was the one they called ‘already an idol’ because he wore make up and styled his hair. But there were other whispers that surrounded his name, more sinister ones, that talked about his arrogance, spitefulness and short temper. Ones that said he'd never debut if he didn't change, because JYPE prides themselves on not having idols with bad personalities. And it stayed like that for a while, with Chan's cloak of indifference he created wound tightly around him and Jisung's loud presence in the practice rooms and his quiet companionship at night.

It wasn't until one dance practice they happened to have together one day, where their teacher confessed having heard of Jisung's rapping but not the thing itself, so she asked him to perform. Chan remembers looking at him and expecting to see the enormous talent everyone saw. Maybe somewhere else being talented was something more, but here, in a company that belonged to the top three, it was more like an afterthought. A stepping stone that maybe helped you get here in the first place, but only hard work would pay off. The ‘talented’ folk often left first, because a fall from great high is always more painful than just starting as nothing.

Or at least, that’s what he learnt from older trainees, but since he never seemed to succeed, it’s possible he never understood what ‘hard work’ truly meant. Maybe these past six years of Chan’s life were just spent on not working hard enough, not giving it his all. Too much time wasted on playing around with the others, too little time spent practising. He didn’t actually need that much sleep. Maybe that was why he was still there with Jisung and not on a real stage with his friends.

But instead, on that Thursday afternoon, Chan saw something else. Jisung wasn't just showing off his skills like people usually did, he rapped like he was born to do it, his flow reminding Chan of breathing. He rapped like it made him the happiest man on Earth, his ambition and determination burning bright in his irises.

Jisung was glowing.

And Chan, after a long period of loneliness and exhaustion, _wanted_ again. He wanted, because maybe this boy didn't know much besides arrogance, but he could still grow, still learn and for the first time in his life, Chan felt the desire to be the teacher instead of the student, to give and give and watch others flourish. Looking back now, he knows that moment saved him. The reason he couldn't debut with earlier groups wasn't because he lacked talent or skill, but because he lacked greed. He was too gentle, too considerate to want to take someone's place, take someone's opportunity away and the instructors could see that in him. But on that day, he felt that greed for the first time, greed not for himself, but for a boy three years younger than him who deserved to be given a chance instead of being dismissed as just 'that arrogant rapper'.

On that night, Chan patted the chair next to him and asked Jisung to show him his work for the first time.

And now, here they are. Years later, some of their mutual goals accomplished and other ones almost in reach as they continue to grow together. In place of two trainees stands Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids, a rookie group that is breaking records and touring the whole world and Han, a rapper and a singer and a genius all in one.

2/9 of Stray Kids. 2/3 of 3racha. 1/1 of Jisung and Chan, because they might’ve changed, but their core is still the same and maybe this is what gives Chan the strength to finally get up from his chair – the knowledge that no matter what may happen in the future, to him Jisung will always be glowing.

Jisung opens the door for him and Chan’s just about walk past him and out of the room when he stops. The younger sends him a questioning gaze and Chan swallows, because although speaking is easier than it had been 20 minutes ago, it’s still far from easy, but he _wants_ to know. “The rhythm?”

Jisung smiles at that, that oldest cockiest smirk of his and answers “I have an idea. The track may be a bit harsher in sound than our other title songs, but I think it may just be what we’ve been searching for.”

And these words, that expression – there’s something so familiar in them, something that screams _Jisung_ and _long nights in a small studio in the old JYP building_ and _the past_ to Chan so much that he almost chuckles at the memories that erupt behind his eyelids and almost starts crying at the weird nostalgia it brings, because those times will never come back. They're in a better place now, living proudly as Stray Kids with a bright future in front of them, but _this_ was the beginning.

It all started with Jisung and Chan in a small dark room talking about performing their own songs one day on stage. Together.

Chan's limbs feel heavy and his mind is still clouded as they walk through the town back to their dorm, but as he watches Jisung out of the corner of his eye, he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to know the timeline, this takes place and was written back around the time Cle:1 came out and it's been sitting in my documents since then. I polished it a bit before publishing, but I must say - I like how raw it is, so I didn't change a lot (which is very rare for me). This is why my characterization may be a bit off and my understanding of their characters has changed since then but it worked for this story so I left it alone.
> 
> Thank you for reading. If you wish to tell me something, just comment. I'll try my best to respond.


End file.
